Sakura Fireworks (Demons of the Sun and Moon)
by Gunner Palace
Summary: Byakuya and Kūkaku never intended to fall for one another—their supposed courtship was supposed to be a ruse meant to distract the Kuchiki clan from the departure of Rukia. But things don't always work out the way they're supposed to. A collection of short stories set within the continuity of Demons of the Sun and Moon.
1. Tabula Rasa

**[ A/N:** Hi, and thanks for reading! These works are set within the timeline of one of my other fanfics, _Demons of the Sun and Moon_ , particularly after the events of Chapter 61 (October 1, 2002). Some of the finer details (like why Kūkaku has her right arm back) are explained therein, but this series can largely be read as a standalone. **]**

 **[** The short explanation for what's going on in is that when Kūkaku negotiated with Byakuya about the terms of Ichigo and Rukia's marriage, she (on Isshin's advice) stipulated for political reasons that Rukia join the Shiba Clan (along with Ichigo, obviously), rather than Ichigo joining the Kuchiki. Byakuya agreed, but his primary condition was that Kūkaku had to appear to be consorting with him so he could dangle the possibility of a powerful heir in front of the clan elders to distract them from Rukia's departure. Kūkaku accepted participating in the ruse to get what she wanted, and relatively soon wound up spending many of her days at the Kuchiki manor. Things are cordial at first, and it seems like all she has to do is just hang out, but things rarely turn out so simply. **]**

 **[** Each chapter of this story was originally written as a standalone entry, but there's a kind of logical progression to them and I have some idea of when they would fit into the timeline of the main story. Since FFN doesn't have series, I've decided to put them up as chapters within a single fic. Since I've kind of gone back and forth in the timeline, I might occasionally insert new chapters in place of old ones to keep the order of events chronological—if at some point you should notice the fic's updated, but you don't see anything new at the end, that's probably what's happened. **]**

 **[** This fic is rated M for adult themes and situations, and does contain depictions of intimacy. The chapters containing it will be labeled as such. If you're not okay with that, I advise you don't continue. **]**

 **[** _Bleach_ is copyright to Tite Kubo, Shueisha, et al. I make no claim of ownership of it and this story is intended purely for non-commercial purposes. **]**

* * *

 **Early January, 2003**

The fire in the _irori_ hearth had almost died to coals and embers when Byakuya carefully set a new log atop them, tending to it for a moment.

Kūkaku narrowed her eyes slightly in consideration of him partaking in manual labor, but quickly dismissed it. She'd noticed early on that he had a tendency to engage in hosting duties directly when they were alone together, rather than calling on servants. It still struck her as atypical, but it was nothing unusual for him. She drew the throw blanket tighter about her shoulders and took a long sip of her tea.

They were in one of the Kuchiki manor's many _chashitsu_ ; this particular tea room was relatively small, intimate, and relaxed in comparison to some of the others she'd seen, but no less ornate. The floors were a rich, warm cherry wood that was as much red as brown, and while the _shōji_ doors were unadorned, the _fusuma_ walls were painted with intricate cherry blossoms in whites and pinks. The _tatami_ mats were oddly luxurious, and plush sitting cushions were scattered about.

Kūkaku knew the theme was rather common for Byakuya's estate, but it hadn't escaped her notice that the execution was more intricate than usual. It was clearly a room he liked. She'd gathered up several of the cushions for herself, along with a throw, and lay on her right side close to the _irori_ for the warmth it threw off while they had their late-night snack of spicy _wakame_ _udon_ and tea.

She'd once more tried to puzzle out what was up with him and seaweed, but she'd made no further progress on the diversion, and her thoughts had turned to darker things instead. There'd been nothing ceremonial about the meal, and they'd largely eaten in silence.

Byakuya soon finished maneuvering and ensuring the log caught fire to his satisfaction. "Are you cold?" he asked. It was only a slightly more chill than normal winter for Soul Society, but they were in the middle of a cold snap. Given her attire and reticence to leave that evening, it had neither been difficult to guess she wanted nothing to do with the weather outside, nor any great burden to accommodate her in the depths of the manor. Her company had remained frosty, however, and given her current behavior, perhaps it wasn't that the cold had somehow seeped into the residence.

Kūkaku slowly shook her head, her eyes not deviating from the fireplace.

He watched her for a short time and then followed her example, considering the flames. It'd long since become clear to him that there were two ways of getting her to do something she didn't want to: coaxing her with subtle appeals to responsibility, or challenging her. He didn't have the need, the means, or the desire to do either at the moment, and so he did nothing. It was evident something was on her mind, but the silence wasn't oppressive—even if it became such, he could withstand it easily.

Things went on in that fashion for some time, the fire quietly crackling between them.

"This is kind of absurd, you know," Kūkaku eventually said.

"What is?" Byakuya calmly asked.

"This. Here. You and me. A Kuchiki and a Shiba in a cozy room, having a snack together in the dead of winter."

He pondered the matter for a moment before closing his eyes and taking a sip of tea, finishing off his cup. When he opened them again, he said only "Yes." It _was_ kind of absurd, and yet there they were nonetheless.

Kūkaku's gaze flickered up to meet his as a frown creased her features. She returned her focus to the fire, but sat up and crossed her legs, squaring herself off against him. Long seconds passed as she considered what to say. His past with Kaien and Isshin, while pertinent to her line of reasoning, wasn't really what was bothering her—that was merely window dressing.

The Kuchiki had always stood for order, and the Shiba had always stood for change. They had formed one of the two axes of the Five Great Noble Houses, and had always been competitive and antagonistic, just like how the Hasegawa and their materialism stood against the Fujita and their intellectualism. Only the Shihōin were different, for their concern was simply survival and continuity—though they would probably argue that they didn't stand apart from the others at all, but rather enabled their existence and competitions in the first place. It didn't matter at any rate. The interplay between the Kuchiki and Shiba was ultimately the same as every other dance between reactionaries and revolutionaries—but it had a personal tinge.

Kūkaku briefly recalled Ichigo comparing it to the Capulets and Montagues during one of their talks. He'd had to explain _Romeo and Juliet_ to her, and had summed it up with 'Basically, they died because their families hated each other.' Her expression grew hard and flinty as she thought about that, but she still had her honor, and there had never been a reckoning on this matter.

"You tried to kill my little brother," she said, her delivery slow and deliberate.

"Yes," Byakuya said. There weren't any special circumstances like between Rukia and Kaien that could be said to have caused a misunderstanding. He had tried—albeit not particularly hard—to kill Ganju. The wounds he'd inflicted had been fatal—and he'd deliberately made them slow painful. He could hardly deny the accusation.

Kūkaku focused on him.

Byakuya watched her steadily. The turquoise-green of her eyes was often tranquil, and was sometimes cold, but at that moment it was hotter than the coals in the hearth.

"And you tried to kill my cousin," she continued.

"Yes," he repeated. His treatment of Ichigo was even less disputable.

There was a long quiet as Kūkaku stared him down. The matter with Ichigo was plainly resolved—she didn't have to seek some sort of justice for him. Rather, she had invoked him to make a point through comparison: "But you tried to kill Ganju specifically because he told you he was a Shiba."

Byakuya was imperturbable. "Yes."

The din of the hearth suddenly seemed rather loud in the silence that followed. After a while, Byakuya looked down at it. He poured himself another cup of tea and set it down before once more looking at Kūkaku. "I told him that 'My sword was not made... to kill pests like you.' He persisted, and soon said 'I don't know how it is with you nobles, but a coward that could be scared away by something like that... does not exist in the Shiba family!' And so I decided to take him _seriously_."

Kūkaku's focus roved across his face, taking in the set of his features. He looked utterly calm. If he was lying, there was no tell for it that she could see. She had known then—and still knew just as surely—that there was no possibility of Ganju going against a _taichō_ and surviving, let alone winning. And yet, if Byakuya had wanted to kill him for sure, he easily could have. Was he trying to say that...

It was a rather difficult and complex social formulation. There was no particularly good way of saying 'I decided to give your younger brother face, considering your formerly esteemed background and our mutual familial animosity, by trying to kill him with a fraction of my power rather than ignoring him or merely maiming him like a peasant, yet I also did not try excessively hard, and he was soon rescued anyway.' To just announce something like that would never smooth out any tension, even if it was direct and honest.

Then there was the fact that she hadn't wanted him to go along with Ichigo and company, yet she had also ultimately permitted it. She was responsible too.

Byakuya narrowed his eyes before closing them and drinking his tea in a single long sip. He set his cup aside and looked Kūkaku right in the eyes. A beat passed. "Three days later, on the day Rukia was to be executed, I fought my _fukutaichō_ , Renji. He used his newly acquired _bankai_ , and I used mine. My remarks to him afterwards were 'Be proud, as someone who, after being struck by this power, is still able to retain the form of his body.'"

He left it unsaid that, considering their relative disparity, the same could be said of Ganju surviving his _shikai_. He couldn't take back the events—they had happened. But they were also a product of the circumstances. He had been following orders, but he had also been operating on his own feelings. Still, things had changed— _he_ had changed—and so, he could earnestly say, "It was an unfortunate meeting."

Kūkaku's eyes lingered on his for quite awhile, until she looked off to one side. That wasn't really quite 'I'm sorry,' but she didn't expect to hear that from him, and almost didn't want to. Things were rarely simple. She had already decided to forgive him if he showed any contrition, as with Rukia. It was easier, in most ways—Ganju was no worse for wear, after all.

The crackling fire was once again the only sound in the room, but it once more seemed pleasant and nurturing, rather than like some call to or remnant of conflict.

Her thoughts had just turned to gratification that, unlike Rukia, he said nothing more—even though that seemed utterly predictable—when the ruffle of his uniform drew her attention.

Byakuya stood, elegant as always, and made his way over to the tea room's _mizuya_ , going through its supplies with practiced ease.

Kūkaku made a point not to watch him until he returned.

He picked up his cushion and moved it to one side, to the left of where he had been sitting, so he was next to her around the square of the hearth. There was a muted thump as he set a bottle down between them on one of the _tatami_ mats, and then the clack of two crystal snifter glasses being deposited next to it.

She regarded the bottle with suspicion and confusion. It was also made of glass, and was shaped like a cone, the sides of which had been dramatically tapered inward. The stopper was ornate and made of gold, with a spiral running down around the bottle. There was some Latin script on the side, but she couldn't read it. "What's this?" she asked, looking up at him.

Byakuya had just sat down and began to efficiently open the bottle, pouring for both of them. "Cognac, Frapin Cuvée 1888."

Kūkaku's look became dubious. "Eh?"

"Liquor from the Living World. It is blended, but some of the spirits in it date from even before that year." He didn't bother mentioning its rarity or expense.

She knew that it had just turned 2003, by the Living World's reckoning, so that made it... that was before Kaien had even become a _fukutaichō_...

Byakuya picked up his snifter, cradled it in his palm, and made a point of showing it to her. "Hold it like this. Your hand will warm the glass. The aroma is important to enjoying the drink."

Kūkaku considered him for a second before doing as he had with her own glass.

Once she had it aloft, he toasted her. "To Kurosaki Ichigo."

She blinked and thought for a moment, then resolved herself. "To Kuchiki Rukia."

Byakuya clinked his glass against hers and brought it to his lips, inhaling and taking a slow drink.

After a moment of indecision, Kūkaku did the same. It was nothing at all like _sake_ or _shōchū_. It was powerful, slightly sweet, and riotous, yet smooth—complicated in scent and flavor alike, smelling of dried fruits and nuts and more besides, yet tasting of citrus and vanilla and flowers. The only words for it were rich and heady, and she felt its warmth flow all the way down into her belly, submerging the heat of old grievances and suffusing every extremity to make both them and the cold alike mere memories.

He had already paused and watched her as she finished.

She pulled the snifter away from her face, in a bit of a daze. She liked her drink, but this... "This is..." It was very new.

"Would you care to finish the bottle with me?" Byakuya asked.

Kūkaku's eyes tracked onto his and she nodded. It wasn't that big of a bottle, and if she had too much and fell asleep in a place such as this... Well, there were worse places to be.

* * *

 **[ A/N:** The following terms are going to remain transliterated (and, other than the last seven, italicized as is common practice in English for foreign words) because I feel they're either more compact or artful than their English equivalents: **]**

 **[** _zanpakutō_ \- "soul-cutter sword" or "soul slayer" **]**

 **[** _shihakushō_ \- "garment of dead souls" **]**

 **[** _reiatsu_ \- "spiritual pressure" **]**

 **[** _reiryoku_ \- "spiritual power" **]**

 **[** _reishi_ \- "spirit particles" **]**

 **[** _gigai_ \- "faux body" **]**

 **[** _senkaimon_ \- "world penetration gate" **]**

 **[** _zankensoki_ \- n/a; compound word representing the next four concepts **]**

 **[** _zanjutsu_ \- "art of the sword" **]**

 **[** _hakuda_ \- "hand-to-hand combat" **]**

 **[** _hohō_ \- "fast movement" **]**

 **[** _kidō_ \- "spells" or "demon arts" **]**

 **[** _sōtaichō_ \- "Captain-Commander" **]**

 **[** _taichō -_ "Captain" **]**

 **[** _fukutaichō_ \- "Lieutenant" or "Vice-Captain" **]**

 **[** Shinigami - "death god" or "soul reaper;" this isn't a proper noun but is sort of treated like one as a group identifier, along with Hollow and Quincy **]**

 **[** Gotei 13 - "13 Court Guard Squads/Companies" **]**

 **[** Onmitsukidō - "Secret Tactics" or "Stealth Force" **]**

 **[** Seireitei - "Court of Pure Souls" **]**

 **[** Rukongai - "Wandering Soul City" **]**

 **[** Senzaikyū - "Palace of Penitence" **]**

 **[** Sōkyoku - "Twinned Punishment" **]**

 **[** Technique names (e.g., Byakurai, Getsuga Tenshō) won't be translated, _zanpakutō_ release commands will. Some incidental foreign words (e.g., _ikebana_ , _shodō_ ) won't be because they refer directly to particular foreign concepts with only approximate equivalents in English (e.g., "giving life to flowers" vs. "flower arrangement" or "Japanese calligraphy" vs. "calligraphy"). For flavor, some honorifics and terms of endearment will remain transliterated rather than translated. **]**

 **[** Italics will also sometimes be used for emphasis of a single word, but are usually used for thoughts. **]**

 **[** Particular words considered in dialogue, quotes in dialogue, and dialogue that is being recalled will all be in single rather than the normal double quotes to indicate they're not being spoken aloud in the present moment. **]**


	2. Ratio Decidendi

**[ A/N:** As Kūkaku and Byakuya go about putting on a show of courting one another in order to smooth over the finer details of Ichigo and Rukia's marriage agreement, they find that although they don't always see eye to eye, they nonetheless always wind up having each other's backs. **]**

* * *

 **Mid-Late February, 2003**

Kūkaku adjusted the _sarashi_ beneath the layers of her kimono. The unending sigh within her went unreleased, and she settled for a mere roll of her eyes. As she finished, she did her best to shift her hips while smoothing her hands along her sides to stop her _fundoshi_ from riding up. She kept her movements subtle so as to not draw attention.

Of course, none of this would have been a problem if she'd only worn the _nagajuban_ , but like hell was she attending a party of hoity-toity types with nothing on under it. Why did formal wear have to be such a literal pain in the ass?

Byakuya stood in such a way as to shield her from idle observation while giving every indication of being unaware of what she might be doing.

"Remind me why we're here again?" she grumbled.

"You know why." They were obliged to mingle given their status and the nature of their ruse. Pretending to be courting wouldn't work if they didn't look the part.

"I meant _here_ , why are we _here_?" She cast a distasteful look around the spacious room they occupied within the Ōmaeda clan's compound. It was the most ostentatious place she'd ever seen—their love of gold-leaf seemed to know no bounds.

He pursed his lips at that before saying, "Cultivating relationships." After a certain point wealth became somewhat immaterial, and the Kuchiki had long ago passed it. They could buy whatever there was to be had, but—rather irritatingly—there were sometimes things which couldn't be purchased. That necessitated other avenues of approach, and socializing was often the prerequisite to journeying down them.

Kūkaku brought her left arm across her chest to grasp her right bicep, considering something in the distance.

Byakuya caught the motion out of the corner of an eye and studied her. He'd deduced it was an irritable tic she had—one that had persisted despite somehow regaining her right arm. Not for the first time, he pondered that matter, before discarding it. It was difficult to imagine a better way of incurring her wrath than sticking his nose in her affairs without her blessing.

She inhaled and straightened up, noticing his attention and matching it.

His eyes met hers. It was clear she was trying her best. Something that might've almost been called the world's smallest smile crossed his face. After a second he scanned the crowd, homing in on a familiar _reiatsu_. "Do you know who she is?"

Kūkaku looked momentarily perplexed before she followed his gaze to a rather bored-looking woman with two braids dressed in an austere kimono.

She raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that Yoruichi's protégé?" They'd only met a few times but she'd certainly heard a lot about her.

"Suì-Fēng," Byakuya confirmed. She was likely there both on behalf of the Fēng and because her _fukutaichō_ had probably begged her to attend.

He turned his head fully. "Perhaps the two of you might have a fruitful discussion on methods of correcting undesirable behavior in subordinates." With that, he drifted away.

Kūkaku peered at his receding back suspiciously before looking back toward Suì-Fēng. It didn't take a stroke of genius to figure out he had pardoned her from whatever interminable business it was he had to attend to. After some consideration, she meandered in the other woman's direction.

* * *

"Can Yoruichi- _sama_ really only handle so little alcohol?" Suì-Fēng had both brows up in disbelief and her nose and cheeks were flushed.

Kūkaku cracked a small grin and chuckled as she swirled her sake cup—it seemed apparent the protégé couldn't do all that much better. She downed what was left of her drink in a single gulp. "Just go ask around West Rukongai District 5 if you don't believe me."

The Shinigami seemed to consider it and was about to follow up when a woman's voice broke into their conversation: "Excuse me, would you happen to be Shiba Kūkaku?"

Suì-Fēng was quicker on the draw, irritably demanding "Who the hell are you?" before she'd even managed to turn around from the bar.

"Ah, my apologies, Suì-Fēng- _taichō_ , I didn't know that I was interrupting!"

Suì-Fēng blinked and scowled as she realized exactly who was addressing them, holding her tongue.

Kūkaku was slower to turn and looked the woman over curiously. Something about her was familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. She was elegantly dressed, supremely so, and her auburn hair was in a pulled-back hime cut that framed piercing green eyes. Could she have been from one of the other two great noble houses? "Yeah, I'm Shiba Kūkaku. What is it?"

The woman smiled unnervingly. "Sorry to bother you over something so minor—I just wanted to get a good look at the Kuchiki's newest pet in person." The sweetness of her tone only accentuated the ice that lay underneath it.

Kūkaku's expression rapidly chilled as one of her fists clenched. "What did you just say?"

"Oh, perhaps I wasn't clear. I _said_ —" She stopped mid-sentence as her subtly cruel expression transformed into one of open shock.

Kūkaku's eyes widened at the change.

"How careless of me to spill so much heated sake—it will be quite difficult to get out of that windflower light silk," Byakuya said from behind the woman. There wasn't a single note of apology in his voice.

The woman's face became a calm mask of rage as she turned to face him.

Kūkaku stared as she saw the entire back of the woman's kimono was soaked. Speechless, her focus shifted to Byakuya.

He was already coldly regarding the woman. "I will see that you are properly redressed for this unfortunate happenstance," he said smoothly, every syllable dripping with the subtlest venom.

"See that you do," she hissed back, storming out of the suddenly silent party.

His eyes tracked her before scanning about and then finding Kūkaku. "Perhaps we should retire for the evening."

Suì-Fēng blinked before raising an eyebrow. "Did you really just—"

Kūkaku stood and offered her a brisk smile. "Thank you for your hospitality, Suì-Fēng- _taichō_." She let Byakuya escort her out of the room as the murmur of the crowd resumed.

Neither said a word to the other during their walk to their _norimono_ , nor during the ride back to the Kuchiki manor.

* * *

It was only after they'd gotten out of the litter that she ventured, "Do I even want to know who that was?"

"Perhaps later."

She turned and critically assessed him. "Whatever happened to 'cultivating relationships?'" The Kuchiki Byakuya she'd come to know didn't splash nobles with liquor.

Byakuya held her gaze steadily for awhile. "Not all relationships are friendly." He turned at that to acknowledge the arrival of Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko with her palanquin. "It would be best if you lingered awhile before departing, but I will take no more of your time." He made to leave.

A smirk cracked Kūkaku's still expression and her lids came down slightly. A long time prior she'd heard that he had quite the temper, but she never would've guessed those embers still smoldered. "So, when can I see you again?"

He stopped for a second before scoffing and continuing on. They both knew she'd be back the next day.

She smiled. That wasn't what she'd meant.


	3. Terra Nullius

**[ A/N:** As is usual lately, Kūkaku is idling in one of the Kuchiki manor's many bath houses to escape the last vestiges of winter, when she's brought lunch by a surprise visitor—Byakuya himself. Their personalities spark, as they often do, only this time one thing leads to another and they both get rather more than they bargained for. **]**

 **[** This chapter contains intimacy. **]**

* * *

 **Late March, 2003**

Kūkaku's head lolled back against the edge of the soaking tub as she finally let go of everything, caring only to idly wonder where the Kuchiki manor got the heat from. As far as she was aware, there were no natural hot springs near the Seireitei—Shinigami Health Land clearly used furnaces and she'd never seen any indication of such machinery nearby.

She'd been pondering the matter for awhile when the sound of the doors opening drew her attention. She languidly opened her eyes and cast her gaze toward them.

Byakuya entered with a tray holding various small bowls, steadily walking it over to the side of the tub. Neither he nor the dishes made a single sound.

She smirked slightly and closed her eyes. "I thought you had people for this kind of thing. Are they on strike?" The normally fretful maids and servants had, for once, seen fit to leave her to her own devices after she'd entered the bathing area.

"It has become apparent you prefer not to be attended to." His volume indicated he was beside the tub, although that still left him about two meters away.

Kūkaku's smirk faded. She regarded him with amusement—he'd placed the tray on its legs beside the tub and was facing the same way as her. "So what are you doing here, then?"

"The duty of a host is to look after their guests."

Kūkaku raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down, dubious, before closing her eyes again. "Well, you've brought snacks, so what is it? You want to peek at me or something?

Byakuya let out a disinterested "Hmph."

"What?"

"What would there be to see that I have not already?" She would always start and end her visits in attire befitting her station, but would invariably change to that ridiculously revealing outfit of hers shortly after arriving. Between it, her figure, and her disdain for conservative posture and economic movement, he'd inadvertently caught sight of more than a little of her over time.

When the comment registered, her eyes opened to cool slits and snapped toward him.

Byakuya was already looking sideways at her with a stony expression—and making eye contact.

They stared each other down for what could've been seconds or hours before she decisively stood, rivulets of water running down her body as she straightened and took an open, yet defiant stance. Her hands rested upon her hips, hiding nothing.

He offered no overt response.

Kūkaku eventually let her neutral expression become flinty, no longer even daring him to look, but silently demanding it.

The moment dragged on before Byakuya casually let his eyes drop and rise again to take her in—the gleam of beading water upon her, the tautness that underlay her soft curves, her flawless complexion, and more besides. He eventually locked eyes with her again. Those turquoise-green depths seemed to glitter.

"Well? Seen anything new?"

He glanced aside.

Kūkaku stalked through the water until she stood before him, looked up, and lifted her hand. She used a single finger to tilt his chin so he regarded her again. She kept her voice pointedly blasé: "What's that? Do you want a closer look?"

He reached up and gently took her wrist, moving it back just enough so she wasn't touching him.

Her eyes widened a fraction, and then narrowed abruptly as the smooth fabric of his sleeve brushed against her chest. However, she made no moves, instead glancing between his hand and his eyes. Byakuya remained a cipher despite their proximity and contact, and something about that was... intensely frustrating.

Byakuya quietly studied Kūkaku's expression. Even standing there nude with one of her arms captured, she wasn't afraid of him—not in the slightest. If anything, she seemed annoyed.

He'd come to appreciate that look on her.

He closed his eyes as his thoughts turned, as they so often did, to Hisana. The woman standing in front of him was absolutely nothing like her—it was hard to imagine a seemingly more perfect yet still believable opposite. But Hisana had possessed much more depth than quiet kindness, just as Kūkaku couldn't possibly be encapsulated within mere loud brashness. Truthfully, it wasn't just that look of hers he'd started to appreciate.

If he was smart, he'd turn and walk out of the room, but that'd be a concession to her. If he was true, he'd take far more than her wrist in hand, but that'd be a concession to himself. What would Hisana say, seeing him standing there?

Byakuya already knew the answer, if he was honest with himself—if he couldn't be with her, then she would've wanted him to be happy, and would have softly but ardently rebuked him for closing himself off in her name.

He made up his mind in an instant.

Slowly, he brought Kūkaku's arm back down to her side, releasing her. Then he allowed a hint of amusement into his expression. "Could it perhaps be you prefer my attention to that of my staff?"

She blinked before closing her own eyes, turning her head and scoffing. "Don't act so full of yourself."

"Considering I interrupted your soak, I could offer a massage as compensation."

She gazed at him sideways. It sounded like a genuine offer; she couldn't find anything that resembled impudence or mockery in his face or tone, no matter how thoroughly she studied him. "... Fine."

Byakuya turned and retreated wordlessly, off to retrieve the necessary linens.

Kūkaku ignored the sudden urge to turn or cover herself—she would concede nothing, and having already shown herself to him, there was little to conceal anyway. She stepped out of the tub and stretched, her bearing deliberately indifferent as she waited.

Byakuya was soon beside her again. He offered her two towels, one full-length and the other smaller.

Kūkaku took both, noting how he kept his eyes on her face, and wiped herself down before working to dry what of her hair had gotten wet. She watched surreptitiously as he laid out another set of towels and throw cushions on the hardwood floor. It was as they were both finishing that she decided to needle him: "You, Kuchiki Byakuya, don't own a massage table?"

"I assumed you preferred not to wait." He stood aside and gestured with an open hand.

She frowned a little, both at his cheek and his caution, and dropped both towels—there was no point in the pretense of covering herself—before moseying past him and getting situated on her stomach. She crossed her arms beneath her chin.

Byakuya knelt to one side of her and uncorked a small bottle of massage oil, pouring some onto his free hand before setting the bottle down and spreading the oil over both.

Kūkaku sniffed at the wafting scent—it was pleasant but unfamiliar; she'd never encountered ylang-ylang before. She'd just started to turn her head when his fingertips came to rest on the small of her back. She tensed.

He kept his touch light, only gradually bringing his palms down onto her as he worked the oil into her skin. He did his best not to think about how supple she was—just the right combination of soft and firm everywhere.

Kūkaku slowly relaxed and very deliberately stayed quiet at the mixed sensation of his warm hands and the cooling oil. She focused on breathing as he roved over her shoulders, neck, and arms before his attention turned to her armpits and her flanks. She silently sucked in a gasp of air as his fingers just barely traced the beginning of the curve of her chest before returning to the small of her back.

There was a pause as Byakuya oiled his hands again.

She bit her lip as his palms slid down over the curve of her rear and his thumbs traced between her buttocks, smoothly gliding to the tops of her thighs and back again. It took a conscious effort to stay still as they made the trip a third time and continued down her legs.

Byakuya kept on until he reached the middle of her thighs. Then he dipped his hands between them to fully coat them.

Kūkaku shut her eyes tightly as she did her best to let him work while keeping her upper thighs together—she had her limits.

He carried on in his own good time to her knees, calves, ankles, and feet. As he finished, he took one of her feet in hand and carefully compressed her toes until they popped. Only then did he begin to properly massage her.

Kūkaku dug her fingers into the towels and cushions at the sea change from caressing to kneading. She'd never really received a massage before—she was rather picky about who she allowed to touch her, and under what circumstances—and it was a novel experience, albeit a pleasing one. She paused at the thought, reflecting on why it might be that she felt at ease with allowing Byakuya to have free reign.

Byakuya attended to only one of her legs at a time, and worked with them in stages. He only resumed massaging both at the same time once he was more than halfway up her thighs.

When he cupped her ass in both hands, she bit her right forearm. But only after he began to squeeze did she find herself swallowing gasps.

Byakuya, however, lingered only briefly before moving on—she wasn't that tense and it was clear it'd get worse if he kept his focus there. He spent a great deal of time massaging her back, occasionally straying to her sides, ribs, upper arms, and neck so it wouldn't become too monotonous for her.

Kūkaku eventually extended her arms above her head, resting her palms on the floor and burying her face against one of the cushions. By then, she was limp. Her one and only concession to mindfulness was to keep her legs drawn together.

Her attention was arrested anew when Byakuya started to focus exclusively on her neck. He stroked a hand along her throat to tilt her jaw up.

Although it meant surrendering the towel she'd bitten, she acquiesced, her windpipe vibrating against his fingers with a barely suppressed hum as he kneaded her skin. It was hard not to turn her head into his touch as his thumbs brushed behind her ears.

Eventually, Byakuya released her and did his best to merely soothe, ephemerally stroking her skin.

After a short while appreciating the faint contact, Kūkaku slowly opened her eyes. She felt wonderfully relaxed, but that wasn't what she wanted more of. Her gaze slid toward the side he was on, though she didn't dare turn her head to try and see him. She looked the other way and closed her eyes again.

She wasn't naïve. She knew what she liked. She masturbated, she'd had sex, and she'd taken more than a few lovers in her time. None of them, nothing she'd ever done, compared to the promise of pleasure in the soft caress of those fingers. There was nothing expectant behind it, nothing demanding or taunting. It simply was, and she trusted in it as certainly as it had made her wet. She clenched her jaw before she finally committed, curving her back so his hands pressed flat against her.

They went still. Byakuya quietly swallowed and shut his eyes for a second. It wasn't hard to interpret the gesture. It was one thing to consider her, another to want her, and another still for her to want him. He tried to think his way through the moment.

Kūkaku slowly started to flex in order to rub herself against his palms, using her chest and hips as pivots. She had her pride; she would not speak her interest.

Giving up his consideration, Byakuya once again began to sensually brush her back. At the same time, he maneuvered such that he knelt over her thighs.

Kūkaku shivered at the feeling of his _shihakushō_ on her bare skin, but didn't stop.

When she was at the apex of one of her cycles, he slid his hands to either side of her and squeezed, stilling her. He then grasped her by the hips and pulled up and back.

She cooperated and lifted her rear, leveraging herself up by bringing her legs forward so she was kneeling. Her legs were still clasped tightly together.

Once he was sure she was stable, Byakuya began to run his hands from the inner line of her hips to her sternum, kneading her abs.

Kūkaku reversed her previous motion, arching her back to press her belly into his hands. She had a keen sense of how powerful they were and she wanted more of their attention.

Byakuya took his time, waiting until their rhythms matched. His hands were right under the curve of her breasts and she was fully flexed when he cupped her. She was truly a handful; his fingers easily sank against her.

He shut his eyes and steadied his breathing. He'd been on pins and needles the whole time, and freely touching her was sorely testing his restraint.

Kūkaku softly hissed at the sensation, shifting her weight to her stomach and lifting her shoulders.

He forced his attention from the ache between his legs back to her. He brought his hands forward, so that rather than resting upon her breasts, she lay with the undersides of them against the linens, and he was free to fondle them.

She finally moaned and brought her forehead down against her arms, squirming.

The sound was enough to persuade Byakuya to adjust his grip, trapping her perky nipples between his middle and ring fingers and pinching them every time he groped her.

Her breathing became shallower and her fingers clutched at the towels as another moan escaped her. Each clench made her gasp and it was no time at all before she was puffy.

Byakuya soon released her and brushed the sides of her breasts. He ran his hands down her flanks, stopping at her hips again and following their curves inwards to the very bottom of her abdomen. Bracing her belly with one hand, Byakuya combed the other through her surprisingly soft tuft of hair.

Kūkaku shifted her hips sympathetically. He was only reaching so far down and it was still making her head spin.

He didn't linger, and instead brought his hands around to her rear. After pressing her forward some, he traced down to the middle of her thighs like before, sliding his thumbs between them and grasping her.

Kūkaku once more bit her lip and finally spread enough to let him see her. She made a noise as the comparatively cool air hit her—nothing could've made it more obvious how wet she was. Her cheeks reddened as she felt droplets trickling down her inner thighs and dripping off her.

Byakuya watched, but subtly, and caught a strand of clear nectar on a finger without brushing her skin. He brought it to his lips.

His nostrils flared at the scent of her, and her taste... his _fundoshi_ suddenly felt far too small and his clothes as a whole seemed to strangle him. Part of him wanted to tear them off so he could just ravish her...

Byakuya clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, centering himself. He'd chosen to make it about her, so he'd keep it that way. Carefully, he released her, brushing the back of his fingers up the inside of her legs.

Kūkaku shook at the encroaching heat of his hands and the sensation of her juices being used like oil. He was so close...

He only briefly caressed her since her need was so evident, stopping as his index fingers bumped against where her legs met.

She bucked her hips and whispered something.

Byakuya brought his left hand against her tailbone to keep her from moving too wildly and closed the right over her mound to stroke two fingers along either side of it.

Kūkaku pressed against his hand and moved in kind with it, neither willing nor able to stop herself from vocalizing her want any longer.

He spread and compressed her outer lips over and over again, building a pattern for both of them before sliding his two central fingers between them, rubbing her directly. She was hot and perfectly slick, and as his fingers extended fully, they nudged against the hard knot of her clit.

It was all she could do not to thrash. In that moment, she needed him with every fiber of her being.

With only a slight delay, he tilted his hand and smoothly plunged both digits as far as he could into her core.

She let out a low cry of relief as her aching need was finally fulfilled. She rocked back against his hand in appreciation, already trying to ride it.

Byakuya let her, dipping the full length of his fingers in and out of her as she soaked them, slightly twisting his hand from side to side to stroke different parts of her. He wanted her to show what she liked and make it clear to him.

Kūkaku quickly found her own rhythm. She buried her face in the crook of an arm and focused on her breathing so she wouldn't hear her wet sounds so clearly. It was already hard to think and she didn't notice his left hand had gone missing. She only became aware of it again when it slid along the inside of a thigh and gathered up some of her juices.

Before she knew it, Byakuya was using two fingertips to delicately caress her clit.

Kūkaku inhaled sharply and snapped her hips back against his right hand, grinding.

After a time, he turned his right hand so it was palm-down. Slowly, he curled his fingers and focused exclusively on a particular spot in her, methodically pressing it with his digits.

She ground her teeth and bit at the towel again, sliding her arms down her sides and bending them so she could play with her chest. Her need for stimulation grew by the second.

They kept on in that way until Byakuya withdrew his left hand, bringing it up along the curve of her ass and then between her cheeks. He used his pinky to spread her nectar over her asshole.

Kūkaku was too preoccupied to do more than weakly open her eyes at the feeling. She closed them again when his hand returned to where it had been—only to gasp as she felt his lips brush her right buttock.

He planted kisses all over the curves of her rear, varying them with nibbles, nips, soft bites, and light licks. It took all his focus to keep touching her with both hands as he did so, slowly working his way toward her center—she was clean and it was yet another sensitive spot, so he felt obliged. He began to lick, twirling his tongue over her.

Kūkaku writhed. It was too much, and her sense of the world was falling apart under the weight of all the pleasure, her awareness starting to break up into sensory snapshots amid the constant searing flame of stimulation. She breathed his name into the towel as a new sensation started to well up inside her.

Byakuya continued to attend to her with his left hand and tongue, but steadily increased the speed of his right, sliding his fingers against her g-spot. He pressed there more and more insistently as the minutes passed.

The sensation built; Kūkaku's legs and hips trembled. She hadn't ever felt anything like it before. She dropped the towel from her mouth as it started to resemble something else. "B... B—Byakuya..."

He withdrew his tongue and softly kissed her. "This is normal."

She twitched at the feeling of his breath and the pressure of his voice against such a place. "I—but, I... I feel like I need t—to..."

Byakuya turned his head and planted another reassuring kiss against the softness of her rear. He returned his focus to his hands as he sat up fully again to avoid getting drenched.

Kūkaku made incoherent sounds as the feeling continued to build before it plateaued, although her desire did nothing of the kind. She was being wound tighter and tighter and...

He gently tugged on her clit.

Her ability to withstand it snapped and she shook, lost in seismic waves of pleasure. Her orgasm was an earthquake, her depths pushing out his fingers as she spasmed against them.

Byakuya didn't stop. He knew that wasn't the end of it.

Kūkaku cried out as everything in her simultaneously locked and pulsed, her mind blanking to pure white. She came harder than she ever had before.

Byakuya watched with barely subdued wonder as she squirted. He refused to slow until she did, and then only gradually, helping her down from the heights of her pleasure.

Kūkaku all but collapsed, all things forgotten in the haze of ecstasy.

It was sometime later when that faded to darkness.

* * *

When Kūkaku slowly opened her eyes, she realized she was somehow on her back, panting. Byakuya was near the bottom of her vision and she became aware of the feeling of his _shihakushō_ flowing over her. His _haori_ had gone missing, she noticed, but she didn't think much of it.

Byakuya delicately took her cheeks in hand, cradling her face. He'd never seen Kūkaku look so vulnerable before and, tough though she might be, it made him feel compelled to reassure her.

She turned her head to press against one of his palms. Something about the sight of him made her chest feel tight. She was about to close her eyes again to try and escape the feeling when she realized how heavy his sleeves were—they were damp with something. She lifted a hand unsteadily to confirm the matter.

Kūkaku turned pink as her eyes searched his. Had... had she really?...

He stroked her cheek soothingly and withdrew a hand to swipe it across one of her legs. He lifted it so she could see the fluid was clear.

She looked from him to his hand several times, her blush not abating even as her mortification subsided. There was a difference to the cast of his eyes, something she hadn't seen before—not quite the way they were then, anyway.

He brought his newly dampened hand to her mouth and carefully ran his fingers across her lips.

Kūkaku closed her eyes and willingly cleaned him, sucking on his fingers. She rather liked her flavor and didn't bother to disguise the suggestiveness of what she was doing. When he withdrew his hand and cupped her cheek again, she gave him what she hoped was a look of cool regard, only for her eyes to widen as his lips crashed against hers.

His fine hair was suddenly all about her, creating a private space just for them.

A quiet moan escaped her as Byakuya licked at her lips and something invitingly hard pressed against her abs. She closed her eyes and arched her back to greet him as his tongue started to explore her mouth, taking in his size through his clothes. She was highly confident he was just right: big, but not too big, and very eager.

Byakuya shared in her taste and kept her head still until he was satisfied. He kissed her chin and pecked his way along the underside of her jaw.

She brought a hand up into his hair and tangled her fingers in it, pulling back and looking down in the same moment.

They were suddenly face to face again. Byakuya found she looked somewhere between grateful and pissed off.

"I cannot _believe_ you just did that," she rebuked, her voice husky.

He stared, then gave the smallest smirk. "That I did what?"

Kūkaku's eyelids came down in a disapproving look, although she herself wasn't entirely sure which particular action she'd meant.

She grasped for the _obi_ of his uniform with her free hand. Her body still reverberated with echoes of what he'd done and she wanted to know what else he was capable of.

Byakuya glanced down just as she found it and caught her wrist, gently pulling it away.

She tugged at his hair again, perplexed and annoyed. "What—"

He lightly squeezed her wrist and kissed her, this time much more tenderly. It was proving difficult to make sense of what he felt.

She blinked, suddenly as aware of the thump of his heart as his arousal. Hers beat in kind, and she shut her eyes, reciprocating. She carefully drew her arm back through his grasp until her hand clasped the side of his.

He eventually broke the kiss, exhaling and pressing his forehead to hers as he squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back and released his hair, just cradling the back of his head.

Awhile passed before he solemnly whispered, "I have indeed seen many new things."

Kūkaku peeked at him and found him considering her. She looked to the side. "Smartass." There was no heat or derision behind it.

Byakuya tilted his head so their cheeks slid together. "I do want a closer look."

She closed her eyes and slowly arched her back again, running her body against his in a rising wave from her abdomen to her chest. "You're not the only one who wants to see something new."

He nipped her earlobe. "I told you, the duty of a host is to look after their guests."

Kūkaku had a momentary misgiving as to why he wouldn't commit himself, but if he would help her come like that again... well, that could hardly be called a disappointment. She issued a hum of acceptance and tilted her head back, exposing her neck to him as she guided him to it.

Byakuya softly kissed his way down her jaw as she directed him and lightly bit her throat, careful not to mark her. At the same time, he brought his free hand up to caress her face and brushed her hair aside. His fingers traced her features as if to memorize her by touch.

She nuzzled his hand before turning her head to kiss his palm, squeezing his other hand and nudging his head lower still.

Byakuya's face soon rested against the swell of her chest. He turned to one side and kissed her while he drew his hand down from her face to the other breast, grasping her.

Kūkaku gasped and pressed his head to her, still exceedingly sensitive from the earlier attention she'd received and given herself.

He began to use his mouth to explore and play with her like he had with her ass while kneading with his hand. He deliberately avoided her nipples.

Her back arched reflexively and she tangled her fingers in his hair again: she'd only tolerate so much teasing.

Byakuya released her hand, grasping the breast he was focusing on. He began to circle her nipples with his thumbs, and gave each equal attention with his mouth.

Kūkaku got her newly freed hand on top of his head to steer him better, making a drawn out "Mmm," that turned into an "Oh!" as he started to nip and suckle her. She let him lavish attention on her until it was too much and the need between her legs became impossible to ignore any longer, and forced his head down.

He complied with only a token show of resistance, kissing the bottom of one of her breasts before licking his way down her hard abs. He dallied at her navel, swirling his tongue against it appreciatively, and before he knew it her soft hair was tickling his mouth and nose. It was musky with her aroma. He swore under his breath at how intoxicating the scent was and how hard it made him.

Kūkaku pushed Byakuya's face into her muff, then spread her legs and drew them up, presenting herself to him.

He took her ankles and brought the arches of her feet to rest against his shoulders before grasping her ass and squeezing it.

She curled her toes at that, relaxing her grip somewhat to give him mostly free reign.

Byakuya nuzzled at her appreciatively, turning his attention to her creamy inner thighs. They were still sticky from earlier and he methodically cleaned her. Gradually, he worked his way toward her mound.

Kūkaku rocked and swiveled her rear and legs against his hands and mouth, getting into it. The feeling of his breath and cooling saliva on her skin were amazing and his tongue was surprisingly strong...

When he was satisfied, he paused to get a good look at her, using his right hand to gently spread her inner lips. She was an exquisite shade of pink and was already wet again, though her juices were thicker and milky. He took a deep breath to try and clear his head, only to lose more of himself to her scent. He drew closer, softly exhaling on her.

Her hips twitched and she visibly spasmed against his fingers, quietly calling his name and tugging his head closer.

Byakuya slowly and longingly licked all the way along Kūkaku to keep her from dripping.

She pressed against his mouth and let out a soft cry, her voice warbling as he focused on her clit.

He released her rear and slid his left hand around her thigh and over her stomach, using his arm to anchor her lower torso. Once he was sure she was secure, he turned his right hand and ran the back of his pointer and middle fingers against her wetness to slick them.

Kūkaku tugged and pushed at Byakuya's head encouragingly as his teeth grazed and fingers worked. It took no time at all to coat him.

He pushed his fingers in, stirring her depths but avoiding her g-spot for the time being. When her juices ran clear, he switched, using his fingers to stroke her and pushing his tongue into her instead. His head swam as he became drunk with her.

Kūkaku made all kinds of noise at the attention and forced his head against her, her thighs rhythmically compressing against him. The feeling of his silky hair on her skin just added to the sensation and she squirmed. "Yes, yes... oh! Yes!"

Byakuya did his best to build her pleasure up methodically. He alternated where he focused with his mouth and fingers, and gradually turned his efforts toward her g-spot again.

She was adrift in the waves of electric heat spreading out from her core when _that_ sensation intruded into her awareness again. Knowing what it was left her much better prepared and she gripped his hair with both hands as it grew, waiting for it to level out. "Byakuya, I'm... I'm gonna!..."

Byakuya brought his mouth firmly over her mound, lapping at her to bring her to climax.

Kūkaku arched her back hard and jammed his head forward as she came again. She gushed, calling his name and trembling.

He found it a struggle to keep up. It was just as he wondered if he might drown that she ebbed and fell silent.

Her hands released his hair, her feet went slack against his shoulders, and her back dropped against the cushions as she became lost in the afterglow.

Byakuya slowly pulled his head back and set about cleaning her, savoring her taste. He closed his hands around hers. When she opened her eyes again, he was there, kissing her softly and sharing with her.

Kūkaku weakly gripped his fingers and partook of it, luxuriating in the kiss for as long as she could before turning her head to get some air.

He stayed close, giving her time before he whispered, "Again?"

Slowly, she nodded her head, her cheek brushing his.

* * *

Kūkaku groaned quietly and drowsily opened her eyes.

For a moment, she had no idea where she might be or what had happened. She took in the subdued lighting of an unfamiliar room, feeling wonderfully clean, warm, and secure. A glance down revealed she was swaddled in an incredibly comfortable _yukata_ and a pair of arms was wrapped around her waist.

She realized from the angle that she was upright and being held against something—someone.

"Wha—" She tried to turn her head.

"Try not to move suddenly yet."

"Byakuya?..." She blinked as everything that'd happened came rushing back. Her cheeks flushed partially. She'd had her fifth orgasm and... She couldn't remember anything after that. Had she passed out?

Before she could say anything the rim of a cup came to rest against her lips.

"This is just water."

She looked down at it uncertainly and was suddenly swamped by another set of sensations: she felt woozy, her limbs were heavy, and she was parched. She parted her lips and let him move the cup, drinking. She couldn't recall having ever wanted water more and tried to lift a hand to tilt it faster.

Byakuya caught her hand and held it still. "Do not drink too quickly—take your time."

Kūkaku grudgingly kept quiet and played along, figuring out they were seated on a pile of cushions in the meantime. When she'd finished her sixth cup, she tried to look at him again.

He didn't stop her. They were abruptly face to face as she looked over her shoulder. She seemed more flustered than angry.

The turn made her slightly dizzy, but she ignored it and studied him intently—he almost looked vaguely abashed. She noticed his collar was different and glanced down, finding he was wearing a similar _yukata_. She blinked before smirking slightly and looking to him again—that _shihakushō_ would've definitely needed laundering after all it'd been through.

"You seem very self-satisfied."

She grinned lazily at his expression of mild pique. "That's one way of putting it."

He watched her for a few seconds.

She did the same, noting the set of his eyes. No matter what was on his face, she could see the concern in them, along with something else. She deliberately turned away, studying the room. "Where are we?"

"This is part of my private quarters."

Kūkaku looked back to him.

Byakuya locked eyes with her. "Does that make you upset?"

Her focus drifted away and she turned her head to conceal the fact she was smirking again, though the cast of it was different. "No." There was a long pause. "How long was I out?"

"It has been several hours. Once I was sure nothing was wrong, I took the liberty of cleaning and dressing you before bringing you here." It all sounded very matter-of-fact.

Her smirk became a smile, though her tone didn't betray it. " _You_ , Kuchiki Byakuya, were worried about _me?_ "

Byakuya looked chagrined and rolled his eyes since she couldn't see him. "What would ever give you such a preposterous idea?"

Kūkaku softly squeezed his hand.

He blinked, having forgotten that he still had hold of her.

"Maybe I do prefer your attention."

Byakuya glanced away and cleared his throat before he released her, taking up a small tray and setting it on her lap. "You should try and eat, and have more water."

Kūkaku looked down to find bowls of _somen_ noodles, dipping sauce, rice, and a selection of various favorites of hers. She stared for a second, then glanced sideways. Did he really already know her that well after less than a year? "Surely you have better things to do than watch me eat." Her tone was playfully mocking.

"Who is watching you do anything? _I_ am relaxing and mentally reviewing the day before bed."

She scoffed at the suggestion contained within the remark and started in.

* * *

When she'd finished, Kūkaku set the tray aside and leaned back against him, even more tired than when she'd awoken. "You said something about bed."

"I did."

"I'd like that now."

"I can escort you to a—" Byakuya stopped as she found one of his hands.

She considered him over her shoulder, then just as quickly looked away. "I was kinda loud earlier and that scent is hard to mistake for anything else... I doubt you did your own laundry and people talk. They likely all already know."

He just watched her.

"So, unless you don't want me here..." Kūkaku's eyes found his again.

Byakuya's look became haughty. "Who would dare deny the inestimable Shiba Kūkaku?"

She blinked. A small grin curled her lips.


	4. Para Bellum

**[ A/N:** As their trust and understanding deepens, Kūkaku decides she can no longer rely entirely on _kidō_ as the sole means to underwrite her position within Soul Society's nobility. She asks Byakuya to help her with resuming her long-neglected swordsmanship... only for the two of them to get more than a little distracted during their training routine. **]**

 **[** This chapter contains intimacy. **]**

* * *

 **Mid-April, 2003**

Byakuya considered the training hall's expanse idly. "You are sure you wish to practice your swordsmanship with me?"

Kūkaku contemplated him. "Don't say it so condescendingly."

He made a subtle gesture with his hands that was, for him, a surprisingly open expression of his thoughts. It conveyed he wasn't trying to start a fight; he simply wasn't sure of the wisdom of it.

Kūkaku let out a huff and looked aside, clasping her right bicep with her left hand. "As a leader of one of the five great noble houses, I should be _proficient_ at _all_ forms of combat."

Byakuya's gaze followed the gesture before tracking to her face. He then turned his attention to the sword at her side. She was wearing her usual outfit, but she'd put a sash around her waist and stuck the scabbard through it. It was shorter than normal, more like a _wakizashi_ than a _katana_ , and had a wider blade almost like a butterfly sword. He'd seen her with it before, but knew her right hand was really her dominant one. Given that...

She looked directly at him again and took in a deep breath. "I'm rusty." It was a flat statement.

Byakuya studied her face before closing his eyes. A prideful ego such as hers would be pained to make such an admission. She was showing her trust in him.

He opened them again after a second. "What conditions would you prefer?"

Kūkaku's expression visibly eased and she looked around. "I'd like to review forms first. After that we can spar—properly—so _zanjutsu_ , _hohō_ , and _hakuda_. No _kidō_ and no _zanpakutō_ nonsense."

Real fighting—and real training—involved all kinds of dirty tricks and not just basic forms, but there had to be _some_ kind of limit.

He looked her over. "And you intend to train in that?"

Kūkaku gave him a glance that was equal parts sour and smug. "Afraid you'll get distracted?"

Byakuya let out a small "Hmph" as his eyes returned to hers. He'd seen something of how Kaien and Isshin had borne themselves and Ginrei had taught him about the Shiba's technique. "I am broadly familiar with the style of the Shiba clan. Draw your sword."

She considered him for a second before turning to one side. After inhaling, she drew and took a ready stance as smoothly as she could.

He studied her for a moment more, then moved so he was behind her.

Kūkaku blinked and tipped her head to the side in an effort to keep track of him, but otherwise didn't move a muscle.

He reached forward.

Her eyes widened as Byakuya's fingertips lightly came to rest upon the bare skin of her waist, just above the sash. The feeling was ethereal and she glanced down—she'd had plenty of time to become intimately familiar with _that_ particular sort of touch. She froze at the sensation of his breath on her neck through the part in her hair. Her eyelids drooped and it was all she could do to suppress a shiver. He had to be so very close...

He lifted his hands and found hers, starting to subtly alter her grasp.

She watched with rapt attention.

Byakuya moved her fingers first, then her hands and wrists, and worked his way up her arms and beyond. He adjusted her stance by small degrees and kept his movements delicate.

Kūkaku's expression softened as he began to alter how she held her core from the sides, starting under her arms. He could so easily reach forward... She stayed stock-still but limber and bore it in silence, forcing herself to breathe steadily.

He knelt to likewise reposition her legs, appreciating the curves her skirt revealed as he did so.

She closed her eyes as she felt him exhale against the small of her back and the top of her rear. The heat of his hands as they dipped under her skirt to her thighs and calves didn't help. She bit her lower lip.

When he finished, Byakuya rose.

They stood in silence for a time and Kūkaku forced her attention to her new stance, taking in all the changes he'd made. Each was minor, but the cumulative effect was notable.

"Sheathe your sword and draw it again."

She nodded and did as he asked.

Soon after Kūkaku's sword flicked out for the second time, Byakuya began to modify her posture again, making far fewer changes. She was very quick. He lightly took hold of her wrists once he finished.

Her eyes widened again when she felt him brush against her back.

"Sheathe it."

Kūkaku looked askance, but complied.

Byakuya didn't resist and only subtly corrected her until the motion was complete. "Draw."

She did so promptly.

He did the same thing before inspecting her stance. They rotated through the pattern again and again. When he was satisfied, she sheathed her sword and he released her. It only took five repetitions in total.

She blinked as she watched him move around to stand in front of her. The distance between them was notably more than conversational.

Byakuya assumed a relaxed posture and elegantly withdrew Senbonzakura, bringing it ready and looking her square in the eyes as he did so. There was no need to tell her what to do.

Kūkaku stared for only a split-second. She then narrowed her eyes in concentration and drew as he'd instructed.

He kept his focus on her eyes, but offered the smallest smile, moving forward smoothly so the ends of their blades crossed.

She watched him intently.

"We will start with simple techniques." He began to patiently go through various strikes and guards with her as a refresher.

Kūkaku kept pace easily, long-discarded memories stirring to life within her as she did so. The motions felt natural and _good_.

Byakuya observed her keenly as they proceeded. He hadn't been concerned about live weapons training with her to start, but her control was excellent.

She humored him until she was confident in herself, then began to attack on her own with neither warning nor preamble.

Byakuya's only reaction was a slightly raised eyebrow and the faintest quirk of the lip.

Kūkaku was also the first to use _hohō_ , flash stepping away from one of his strikes and counterattacking.

He obliged her and began to do the same. He had to admit she was fast, but that wasn't surprising given she associated with Yoruichi and had been relying on _kidō_.

They were soon flickering about the training room, a flurry of blurs that paused only to clash in sparks. It was in those briefest of moments that one could almost see smiles on them.

He was subtly increasing his speed as they circled and dived. She didn't seem to notice, but instinctively matched him.

It was when they came together in yet another stalemate that Byakuya suddenly increased his rate of movement, using a _hakuda_ move to disarm her. Her sword was sent sliding away.

Kūkaku didn't falter and immediately closed the distance between them so he couldn't use Senbonzakura, doing something very similar to him.

They thundered back and forth, a cyclone of kicks and punches. He found himself repeatedly caught off-guard by unexpected shifts in her center of gravity and it took him some time to figure out she was using her chest to counterbalance. He watched quizzically the next time she did it.

"I told you about being distracted!" Kūkaku taunted.

Byakuya gave her a nonplussed look and carried on in silence.

Kūkaku kept up with him, batting aside his strikes and counterpunching, but she was at her limit in terms of speed.

His speed, however, abruptly increased again. One of his hands shot forward between her defenses to seize her by the neck.

Her eyes widened and she instinctively grasped his wrist. She was already being pushed back.

Byakuya dropped out of flash step with her right in front of a large wooden support beam. He brought his other hand to her stomach and forcibly pushed her back against it. It only took the blink of an eye, but there was nothing thoughtless in the motion. Although he had a hold of her neck, he was careful to ensure her shoulders hit the beam first. It was only once she was against it that he pushed her head back into contact with it. It looked jarring in action, but was surprisingly gentle in fact.

Kūkaku squeezed his wrist and immediately fought him, not noticing in the heat of the moment.

Byakuya took her wrist in turn. He used his body to pin her, his forearm pressing between her breasts. Given the cut of her outfit, he quickly became aware that she was slick with sweat.

Kūkaku openly stared. It was suddenly apparent to her that he had her by the neck, not by the throat. Despite seeming academic, the distinction was at the forefront of her mind—she could still breathe freely and speak if she wanted to.

He looked back and after a moment adopted a small, superior smile. "I think you have lost."

Kūkaku blinked before giving an arrogant grin.

Byakuya's eyes widened fractionally as her other hand was suddenly clutching him somewhere very sensitive through his _shihakushō_. Just as with his grip, there was no true use of force, merely the threat of it.

"I think it's a draw."

His brows drew together, but he kept his gaze on her.

Kūkaku lifted her own brow in response and stared right back.

Byakuya slowly tilted her head back just a little with the thumb and forefinger that cradled her jaw.

For some time they just looked directly at one another.

Her eyelids drooped slightly and she released his wrist. She kept her other leverage, though.

He lifted her arm up between them and brought it above her head, trapping it against the beam by the wrist.

Kūkaku gently squeezed to make it very clear that she was _letting_ him get away with such behavior, studying him.

"Then I suppose it is a draw." Byakuya closed his eyes and pushed up against her.

She let out a small sound and did the same.

They leaned against each other for a time.

"How about... best two out of three?" Her tone was quiet and thoughtful.

Byakuya made a noncommittal noise.

A beat passed before Kūkaku tilted her head back just a little further and to the side to nip his lower lip.

He exhaled and gently bit back. They engaged in a small duel, not quite kissing, but teasing.

Byakuya eventually tilted his head further and forced the issue, locking lips with her.

Kūkaku held the kiss without increasing its pressure. She could tell from her grasp on him that he was quickly becoming interested in a different kind of sparring. Given how he'd handled her earlier, she was willing to take it as yet more of his flattery.

He'd never restrained her before, but she liked when he was assertive. He wasn't bossy and always remained receptive to and respectful of her desires. He also knew when to let her take charge and had no issues doing so. She didn't have to ask for anything unless it was complex—and then she never had to ask twice.

Kūkaku parted her lips slightly and began to slowly arch and flex her back so her chest slid along either side of his forearm, humming so her throat vibrated against his palm.

Byakuya accepted the invitation and kissed her more deeply than before.

She greeted him warmly and slowly drew her captured wrist through his hand until hers met it.

He shifted his grip and slid his fingers between hers, loosening his grasp on her neck to gently massage it.

A quiet sound escaped her and she lightly bit his tongue before pushing it back with her own, taking over the kiss. She squeezed the hand that held hers and fondled him with the other while she firmly pressed up against him.

He played with her tongue and squeezed back, rocking his hips against her palm.

Kūkaku finally turned so their foreheads were together, breathing with him. After a while, she partially opened her eyes.

Byakuya studied her. Her expression was coy and her gaze was very clearly _interested_.

She smirked a little. He was still acting as cool and collected as ever. It was cute. "Let go."

Byakuya considered her for only a split-second further, then released her neck and hand, taking a half step back from her.

Kūkaku finally let go of his balls and grasped his upper arms. She pulled him forward again at the same time as she spun, pushing him back against the beam and giving him a smooch before she withdrew.

He watched curiously as she stepped back a few paces so he could see all of her.

Kūkaku looked him over for a second. When she finally met his gaze, she took the sash and the hem of her skirt in hand, only to pull them down past her hips and let them drop unceremoniously. Then she reached her hands back to the knots that held her top in place, undoing them. The release of tension caused it to pop off on its own, revealing her ample breasts. She smiled at him.

Byakuya's eyes took her in of their own accord; she shimmered with a light sweat and was clearly aroused. His gaze soon returned to hers.

A smug edge crept into her smile and she turned around. She ever so slowly bent over and tugged her _fundoshi_ down, giving him a sensual little show. Once they were around her thighs, she let them fall, standing upright again. She strutted up to him and drew close. The soft fabric of his uniform rasped over her bare skin as she nipped his chin.

Byakuya lifted his hands to her sides. Her eyes seemed to spark with mischief and he couldn't look away.

Kūkaku flashed her teeth at the open expression on his face. "You look really sexy when you do that."

With his cooperation, she disrobed him. A _shihakushō_ had a ridiculous number of bound and tied parts, but she worked through them with practiced ease. By the time he was left in his _shitagi_ , there was a pile at his feet.

She pulled the _shitagi_ off and let it fall, nudging the discarded clothes to one side with a foot as she pushed against him. One of her hands circled round to the back of his neck and her other came to rest on his _fundoshi_. She kissed him tenderly, gently stroking his length and rubbing their chests together.

Byakuya's hands traced down her hips and around back to cup her ass appreciatively.

Kūkaku let out another, different noise, almost a moan, and slid her fingertips into the band of his underwear. She tugged it down by degrees, licking his lips as the hard heat of his cock pressed against her abs and groin. She was always taken slightly by surprise at his size.

His fondling became possessive and he tilted his hips forward against her. Once his _fundoshi_ were loose enough for gravity to do the work, he simply kicked them off.

Kūkaku turned her head to one side and brought her hands onto his forearms, breaking his grasp. She gave Byakuya a sultry, smoldering look turning around and pushing back against him, letting out a hot breath at the feeling of him against her ass. She subtly rubbed against him.

Byakuya closed his eyes and brought his face to her hair. He started to nip and kiss her neck, and at the same time he reached up, taking her breasts in hand. His fingers sank against them as he rolled his hips opposite hers.

Kūkaku finally let out a real moan and brought her hands to his, showing him how she wanted to be touched.

Byakuya groped her more roughly and began to tease her hard nipples.

She quietly gasped each time, grasping his hips as she continued to grind with him. Eventually she drew herself forward, reaching down to take hold of his cock. She pushed herself up onto her toes and brought him between her legs so he was snug against her, shuddering at the heat of him.

Byakuya bent his knees a little so she could lower herself back onto her heels, sliding himself against her.

Kūkaku continued gasping and moaning. The whole of his cock went past her tangle of hair so his head dug against her lower abs, and the parallel motion spread her mound so the entirety of her sex ran against him. The feeling of him throbbing against her was amazing. She was already leaking onto him.

Byakuya continued to fondle her, just on the edge of being rough, and started to lick and nibble at one of her earlobes.

Kūkaku turned her head into the attention. She grasped the back of his neck with one hand and brought the other down to stroke along his dick. She kept on until she was sopping wet, slathering her juices over his length until he was dripping with her. At last, she began to push her hips down, as if to kneel, even though his resistance kept her from doing so.

He took the hint and carefully lowered himself with her, using his legs and the friction of his back against the beam to control their descent. He was coated in a similar sheen of sweat and it made the motion easy. It wasn't long before he was sitting _seiza_ style with his legs tucked under him and her on his lap.

Kūkaku had her own legs folded along either side of Byakuya's and drew them together so they squeezed around him. Once she was comfortable with the position, she released his neck, bringing that hand forward onto the ground in front of her for stability. She kept hold of his cock and pushed herself up almost into a kneeling position so the head of it was against her entrance. She bit her lip as stands of nectar dripped down onto it, but paused to mentally affirm the _kidō_ she'd done earlier that morning. She'd taken to casting it preemptively since they were so often... adventurous.

He slid his hands down her sides to her hips, both to steady her and to still her subtle trembling.

Kūkaku eased at his touch. She closed her eyes and set her jaw to hold in any sound before pushing herself down onto him. A muted "Ah!" still escaped her as his tip slid in. She parted her lips to let out a relieved groan as all the rest of him plunged into her.

Byakuya gritted his teeth and helped pull her onto him as smoothly as he could.

It was only a few seconds later that she came to rest, her chest bouncing.

He leaned forward to push his forehead to her neck and wrap his arms around her waist.

Kūkaku squirmed faintly and swallowed a whimper as waves of subtle contractions rippled through her core. He was so deep in her and everything about him was driving her crazy.

Long seconds passed before she unsteadily got her hands onto his knees and gripped them tightly. She just... needed a moment...

Byakuya started to plant kisses along her shoulder while slowly sliding his hands up her belly and ribs to her breasts again. He was much gentler, more than able to feel her predicament.

She basked in the attention, staying still for awhile. Eventually she used the leverage of her legs to lift herself against him, then slowly dropped. She only moved along a little of his length at first to accustom herself to him yet again.

He lightly bit her nearest clavicle, encouraging her with his hands one last time before grasping her hips and leaning back against the beam. He would let her have control.

Kūkaku pushed her rear up and leaned forward, gradually riding him such that his curve ground against her g-spot. She dropped her head in short order and openly panted as she bucked against him.

Byakuya maintained a firm grip on her hips, but made no effort to alter her pace, holding in quiet groans. His eyes roved up and down her back as she bounced on him, taking in the flex of her shoulder blades, the definition of her muscles, the arch of her spine, her cute back dimples... He kept returning to the curves of her ass, the way she felt pounding against his abs, the way he could see himself sliding in and out of her... He finally shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. "Kūkaku..."

She was incredible.

"I—I'm getting... close... promise—just a little..." She kept breaking off to moan and her breathing was ragged. Between all the foreplay and their position, it was too much. It was too much. She couldn't even control it, it was just too much. "Bya... Byakuya!"

He opened his eyes fractionally just as she slammed back against him and visibly locked up. He shut them again and groaned as she pushed him over the edge with her.

* * *

Kūkaku only found herself again sometime later. As she blinked her eyes open, she realized Byakuya held her close, her head lolled back against his shoulder so they were cheek to cheek. He had one arm around her waist and the other just below her chest. He was still in her, but... She shifted a little and determined their legs were completely soaked. Her cheeks flushed and she pressed her face against his, letting out a contented hum. It was always so intense with him.

He nuzzled at her and drew her tighter into his embrace.

Kūkaku took hold of the arm around her waist and brought her other hand up to touch the exposed side of Byakuya's face, unable to raise her guard or mental shields. They could never really seem to keep their game afoot in the afterglow, and that was when they were inevitably at their most honest... and vulnerable. That was...

She closed her eyes again, feeling content and safe. That was okay. With him.

Byakuya moved the hand on her side over hers, skimming the backs of her fingers.

They stayed together for quite some time before Kūkaku became aware of a stirring within her. She fidgeted just a little as she felt him getting hard again—he was as reliable as the sunrise. She opened her eyes and looked sideways to find him watching her.

Byakuya did his best to look apologetic. They didn't have to.

A small but genuine smile took hold of her lips and she considered him with hooded eyes. She brushed his cheek, tensing her core and rocking her pelvis without really moving much to encourage him. She was more than agreeable to another round with him... Besides, she _had_ called for best two out of three...

The open look of want on her face made his chest clench. He turned his head further to kiss her cheek, moving with her.

Kūkaku pecked back and quietly moaned for him, not looking away. The feeling of him swelling inside her was something else entirely. He'd let her do what she wanted, so... she squeezed his hand and slid her fingers against his cheekbones, asking with her eyes.

Byakuya nodded slightly. He got his arm free from beneath her breasts and reached up to the hand she had cradling his face, taking it so he had both. He guided them in front of her while leaning away from the beam, slowly tipping her forward.

She understood and put her palms on the floor.

Byakuya got his hands on her hips and slowly levered himself up, pushing her with him. Soon, she was truly on her hands and knees, and he was kneeling behind her. He lifted each leg in turn and brought them to the outside of hers.

Kūkaku held in a noise as she involuntarily tightened around him. He was completely hard again and the position left her so exposed to him, let him fill her so fully...

His hands slid up to her ribs and he grasped securely, pulling her toward him to arch her back. Her ass was kept high, but her shoulders were forced down.

Kūkaku's fingers tensed against the hardwood floor. The feeling of having her nipples trapped against the smooth surface made her head spin and she scrabbled for a moment before drawing her arms in front of her, bringing her chin to rest on her forearms. She was getting really wet again and couldn't restrain her subtle squirming.

Byakuya ran his hands along her back and circled his thumbs around her dimples. He then grabbed handfuls of her ass and squeezed her. She was so perfectly presented to him... He had to close his eyes for a moment and wobbled her pelvis to test how tight she was around him.

Kūkaku let out an inaudible curse and turned her head to one side to try and see him, only for her eyes to widen as he started to move. She shut them tightly and immediately started to call to him—she was still very sensitive. "Ah! Y—Yes!"

Byakuya only tried one exploratory movement before starting to methodically take her with the entire length of his cock. He pushed his hips down while pulling hers up slightly with each thrust and withdrawal, rubbing hard against her g-spot. He gave a small smile as he felt her spasm; her ass trembled in his hands, her legs twitched as she kept trying to spread them more, and he could watch her upper body shudder.

She buried her face in the crook of one of her arms. It was all she could do not to give a voice to her deepest desires. She wasn't going to beg, she wasn't... All she could think of was 'Harder!' and 'Faster!'

Byakuya knew and gave her both.

Kūkaku's thoughts were soon hazy and masked by the static of pure pleasure.

He eventually released her rear and leaned over her, bracing his right arm beneath her belly so as to keep most of his weight off her for the moment. His left hand found hers and he drew it away from her, threading his fingers down between hers in time to another thrust.

She let out a cry and clutched at him instinctively.

He slowed. He tried to pull her other arm away from her face.

"D—Don't stop!" she managed, muffled by the limb.

"Let me see you." It was an entreaty.

Kūkaku wasn't in a position to resist and blearily opened her eyes as he revealed her. It was hard to focus, but he looked so...

Byakuya stared for a long moment at her _torogao_ expression. She was always trying to hide her face from him when they were truly intimate, especially when they were in positions that'd let him view her openly. He only ever really got to see how blissful she looked in the aftermath.

She opened her mouth to say something.

His eyes narrowed to slits and he pressed his forehead to hers, pounding at her again, just as hard as before. At the same time, his right hand slid back beneath her.

Her own eyes shut naturally as she let out sharp moans, shuddering and trying to buck even though his heft made it impossible. The more her back arched away from him, the more he pinned her. She squeezed his hand. "Byakuya—"

Byakuya shushed her and moved his other hand to her abdomen. He hesitated only a second in surprise as he realized she was dripping down her abs before trailing his hand up between her legs. He gently stroked her clit as he drove himself into her.

She instantly seized and parted her lips silently.

He saw it through slit eyes before he shut them completely, and joined her.

* * *

Kūkaku slowly returned to awareness, her lashes fluttering as she blinked. She felt wonderfully warm and realized she was staring at Byakuya's chest. The side of her face was against something soft that smelled like him. A glance sideways confirmed it was part of his uniform.

They were still on the floor, but he'd used his _hakama_ as something of a blanket for them. She was snuggled up close to him and one of her hands was interlinked with his. She tilted her head back.

Byakuya glanced down at her.

Their eyes stayed locked onto each other for some indeterminate time before Kūkaku's cheeks went pink and she looked down again. She brought her other hand up to run her fingertips over his chest.

Byakuya looked to one side.

"We should wash off... and clean up in here." The idea of making some poor servant deal with the mess they'd made was just wrong.

He made an amused sound.

Her gaze returned to him and she found him smirking. "What?"

"Nothing." The idea of two clan leaders cleaning a room was highly entertaining. But... why not? "There is an adjoining bathing area we can use without issue." He sat up and helped her do the same.

Kūkaku allowed him to assist her, feeling her head spin as she was drawn upright. She braced her hands against his chest to steady himself before sighing and weakly leaning against him. She was just... dizzy. That was all it was.

Byakuya watched her for a moment before circling his arms around her waist and looking elsewhere.


	5. Utraque Unum

**[ A/N:** The day after their sparring session, Kūkaku and Byakuya are left to grapple with their deepening feelings for one another in their own ways. Things don't go as either really planned when they finally bring them up with one another. **]**

 **[** Kuchiki Chiyo is a canonical character from the novel _The Death Saves The Strawberry_. **]**

 **[** This chapter contains intimacy. **]**

* * *

 **Mid-April, 2003**

Kūkaku lightly bit down on the end of her _kiseru_ pipe and closed her eyes, reclining back against the thick oak tree she was situated next to. Smoking inside was the only thing that Byakuya had denied her during her stays at the manor. She'd never questioned it—his house, his rules—and it'd been a good reason to cut back; with the turning of the weather it was also a reason to idle outside too. He never said anything about it, even after they'd started being intimate—not that he ever would, knowing him—but she'd quickly started taking care to clean out her mouth before being around him. She sighed around the mouthpiece. _I should probably just quit..._

She was almost finished when she heard the rustling of footsteps on the grass that surrounded the tree. Her brows furrowed at the noise. His servants were so damn persistent and worried about her all the time. Was it for her sake, or his, or both? They surely knew some of what was going on... "I said I don't need a blanket," she stated around the pipe.

"Um, excuse me for interrupting, Kūkaku- _sama_..." a young woman's voice replied.

Kūkaku found she couldn't place it and opened her eyes warily. Standing before her was a petite woman with copper hair and brown eyes. Her fair face was dusted with freckles and she looked fidgety. She seemed rather young and Kūkaku lifted an eyebrow slightly. They hadn't met before, but she might've seen her around.

The woman smiled and bowed respectfully. "My name is Kuchiki Chiyo."

Kūkaku studied her for a little longer before blowing out a final puff of smoke. She brought her _kiseru_ to the small pot she'd brought along and rotated it. With a single tap she dumped out all the ash. Many of the servants—but by no means all of them—seemed to be related to the clan by blood. There was nothing particularly unusual about that, and it was no business of hers to act like she ran the place—she was still a guest. "What can I do for you?"

"Um, I—sorry again—" she began.

Kūkaku sighed again and suppressed a frown. She sat up, leaned forward, and drew up her knees to rest her arms on them. "Go on already."

Chiyo looked up at her tone. Those turquoise-green eyes were watching her coolly. Her smile turned nervous. "Uh… Given your status, and the arrangements that were promulgated last fall, would I be correct in assuming you know Rukia- _dono_?"

No expense had been spared in making sure everyone in the Seireitei had learned of the arrangement of Ichigo and Rukia's engagement. Word had quickly spread within the clan about other terms underlying the deal. Kūkaku's almost constant presence since then had just served to reinforce the whispers. It was rumored that when she seemed to occasionally disappear for a week or so it was to visit her relatives in the Living World. It stood to reason she saw Rukia then. The last time she'd been absent had been sometime before all the _other_ stories started floating around, but that had only been a few weeks prior.

Chiyo hadn't seen Rukia since her brief visit the year prior, when she'd suddenly become an overnight pop sensation along with the other former intruders. It'd taken her months to work up the nerve to ask, but there she was.

Kūkaku blinked and visibly eased. "Yeah, I know Rukia."

Chiyo's smile became natural again. "If it's not an imposition to ask... how is she doing?"

Kūkaku stared for a second but gestured for her to sit. "How do you know her?"

After only a moment, Chiyo lowered herself down into a kneeling position, taking care so as not to get grass stains her _hakama_. She couldn't stop herself from beaming. "I was assigned to her when she first came here! Since she became a _fukutaichō_ she's often stayed with her division, but I'm still on call for when she returns!"

Kūkaku blinked again. A beat passed before she finally let a smirk cross her lips. Memories of Rukia smiling and laughing with Ichigo, Isshin, Karin, and Yuzu flashed through her mind, along with times she'd done the same with Ganju—and with her. "I…" The smirk became a smile. It might not be wrong to call them friends at that point, not just family-to-be. "I think she's really happy."

Chiyo clapped her hands in front of her and locked her fingers together. "Really?!"

It was all Kūkaku could do to keep from laughing at the young woman's excitement. Something about it was so earnest and infectious. "Yeah, really! I have an uncle and three cousins—Ichigo is one of them—and they always treat her like—" she broke off and refocused on Chiyo as she heard her sniffle.

Chiyo had brought a hand up to her eyes to hide the fact she was crying. She sniffled again and waved a hand dismissively before pressing it to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I should—"

Kūkaku was already in motion. She pushed herself up into a kneeling stance and leaned forward, grasping the woman's shoulders. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Chiyo hesitated before accepting the embrace, her training forgotten for just a moment in the swell of emotion. "I'm just... I'm so _happy_ for her!" Rukia had known so much loneliness and heartache and to hear that she was not even merely content, but finally truly happy was...

Almost immediately Kūkaku felt hot tears spill down her neck. She searched in the distance for a short time before closing her eyes and drawing the Kuchiki woman closer. "It's okay. That's okay. There's nothing wrong with that. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

They stayed together for a half a minute before Chiyo abruptly tensed as she remembered her station. She tried to pull back. "Kūkaku- _sama_ , I—"

"I said that it's okay." Kūkaku kept her voice quiet and only mildly chided, "You're a human being before you're anything else."

Chiyo lightly grasped at Kūkaku's clothing.

She gave the girl a pat on the back of the head.

"Byakuya- _sama_ is... really lucky to have met someone like you," Chiyo quietly ventured, sniffling again.

Kūkaku let out a small laugh only to stop when she heard a tinge of nervousness to it. "Wha—What do you mean by something like that? We're not—it's not like we get along well!" She knew they _knew_ , yet still... this was still supposed to be a ruse!

"He's always such an unyielding pain in the ass," she mumbled in addition. She immediately regretted her choice of words as a memory of the previous day hit her: being on the wood floor on her shoulders and knees, Byakuya's abs against her as he—her cheeks turned pink and she opened her eyes to have something to look at—something to ward the thought off.

Chiyo didn't react to the slight against her clan's leader. "He... was never the same after Hisana- _sama_ died."

Kūkaku abruptly looked down at the top of Chiyo's crown of hair.

"It's... it's probably not my place to say, but... When he was younger, he had quite the temper, and he was always breaking the rules. When they were married, he became much milder, but he was plainly happy. When she died, he... wasn't really the same. It wasn't until after the incident with Rukia- _dono_ that I again saw shadows of the way he used to be. With her promotion, those became more common, but..."

Kūkaku blinked as Chiyo drew her head back and looked up at her with a smile.

"It might not show or seem obvious, but... I've had a long time to observe him, if only at a distance. He's... much happier with you around."

Kūkaku stared and only just barely kept her eyes from going wide.

Chiyo closed her eyes and pulled back, easily breaking the hug as she stood and turned to give the leader of the Shiba her privacy. "Thank you, Kūkaku- _sama_... for everything. Please, be at peace." With that she made her out of the garden, not looking back once.

Kūkaku watched her retreat until she was out of sight, only then leaning back so she was sitting again.

A minute passed before she flopped against the tree trunk and brought the back of a hand to her forehead. The air was still brisk but she felt hot, and she knew it wasn't just her lingering blush or the start of a fever. She shut her eyes. She was—she and Byakuya were both... they were both really falling in...

 _... Fuck_ , she thought, looking about the garden, not wanting to complete the thought.

* * *

Byakuya picked up his final stack of paperwork and neatly squared it up before setting it aside on his desk for retrieval. With that, he pushed his chair back and stood, considering the Seireitei through his office window as he moved it back into place. It was still light out, and not simply because it was late spring. He took a breath—he'd already decided that today was the day he'd say something—and turned, departing.

He found the door to his _fukutaichō_ 's office open as he passed by it, and stopped.

The man in question was hunched over his own stack of paperwork.

"Renji."

Renji started at Byakuya's voice and looked up with surprise. His commander's ability to sneak around over distances like those separating their offices was still unnerving. "Yes, Kuchiki- _taichō_?"

"I am leaving for the day. Things are in your hands."

Renji blinked and looked backward to confirm the time of day using the light from outside. He turned again with a quizzical look before trying on a small smile. Byakuya _had_ been leaving earlier lately... not that he'd ever specified why. "Big night?"

A scowl crossed Byakuya's features. He walked off without another word.

Renji raised an eyebrow before looking down at his work again. "Was it something I said?"

* * *

Kūkaku cradled her hands around her teacup for warmth. The small tea house they had chosen to occupy after a leisurely dinner looked out onto a placid pond. She kept her focus on it. A single candle burned behind them but it did nothing to dull the twinned brilliance of the moon in the sky and water. She took a long gulp to empty her cup before setting it aside. Although it warmed her throat and belly, it did nothing to stop a shiver from wracking her—the days were sunny, if cool, but the nights were still cold.

Byakuya surreptitiously glanced sideways to her. Her goose bumps were obvious in the moonlight. He looked the other way and smoothly pulled off his _haori_. He knew she'd never admit her choice in attire was still proving impractical.

She noticed the motion and turned to study him quizzically just as he'd gotten it off and was leaning over toward her. She blinked as their eyes met.

Byakuya studied her as he draped the _haori_ over her shoulders.

Kūkaku stared for a moment before her expression became dismissive and she turned her head, decisively looking away.

He watched her for a short time, then turned his head back toward the pond. "My apologies, I know the material is cheap."

Her countenance mellowed and her eyelids lowered as she covertly drew the robe close. It was warm from his body heat. "Who said anything about that?"

The corners of his mouth tugged upward fractionally. "I did." She deserved better.

Kūkaku turned to regard him critically. The look on his face was so... considerate. Something about it made her chest squeeze around her heart and she looked down, pulling the _haori_ tighter still around herself. After looking away, she shut her eyes and fought off the feelings surfacing within her.

Byakuya kept his attention off her as he again considered how to tell her how he felt.

There was a long silence before she quietly stated "You... knew Kaien." She'd never addressed the interactions of the two of them before, even when she had forced him to answer for his treatment of Ganju.

He blinked. There was a beat before he replied "Yes."

"You never got along." It was a statement. She'd only heard Kaien vent about Central 46 and the Gotei 13 a few times, but in retrospect it wasn't hard to figure out some of it had been about Byakuya.

Byakuya glanced down at the pond. "No. We did not."

"Think you would now?"

Byakuya was silent as he thought about Kūkaku and Ichigo. They were certainly both quite a lot like Kaien in their own ways.

"I think you might," she continued.

"Who can say?" It wasn't really a question.

She drew her knees up in front her and got her arms around them, continuing to look anywhere but at him. "It's not really fair, you know."

"What?"

"You knew him, but I never met Hisana."

For once, he wasn't really sure what to say, and looked aside.

Quite some time passed before she ventured "What... what was she like? Was she like Rukia?"

Byakuya took in a breath and slowly blew it out.

Kūkaku glanced to him before looking down. That was... surely too far. She know how she'd react if someone just suddenly brought up Kaien in front of her without being invited to. She brought her palms onto the floor and began to push herself up. "I—never mind—"

He reached to one side and lightly took her nearer wrist.

Her gaze shot to him in surprise as she abruptly became unsure of everything.

His eyes didn't meet hers, but... talking about such a thing was alright—with her.

Kūkaku searched his face as she felt her heart start to thrum.

Byakuya gently pulled her toward him.

Only a moment passed before she started to move, turning to face him and grasping his far shoulder. She could've fought, and part of her wanted to, but the rest of her simply didn't. As he slid an arm around her waist under the _haori_ and helped draw her onto his lap, she pressed close to him, circled her free arm around his neck, and brought her head beneath his, resting her face in the crook of his neck. He was warm, so very warm.

Byakuya kept his attention on the moon's reflection in the still water, but lowered his chin down against her hair, taking in her scent. His hands naturally ran up and down along her back.

There was a long silence.

"She... both was and was not like Rukia," Byakuya eventually said. He was quiet.

Kūkaku stayed silent, just listening and letting him talk at his own pace.

"Rukia may be both elegant and spirited... but underneath both, there is a gentle earnestness and selflessness about her. Hisana was like that as well, although her expression of such a latitude of emotions was more... demure. She was much more... traditionally feminine. She would often conceal her true thoughts and feelings—hide her smiles, stifle her laughs, couch her anger or convictions in flowery or laconic speech... She was subtle, but in her interiority, she was as deep as the ocean."

Kūkaku looked to one side in thought—going by this, she and Hisana couldn't be more different... So why...

"Rukia will usually speak her mind; Hisana tended to let her silence speak for her," Byakuya finished.

Kūkaku quietly drew in a long breath through clenched teeth, and then let it out. "It sounds like she was very sophisticated."

Byakuya closed his eyes. "She would have found you enchanting."

At that, Kūkaku blinked. _What...?_

He said nothing more and simply held her. It was hardly the time to tell her now...

As she idled in his arms, her thoughts turned to the morning talk she'd had with Rukia about Kaien on _ohigan_ the prior year. She felt a sudden pang in her chest and stubbornly shut her eyes. _So this is what it feels like for the shoe to be on the other foot..._

Another seemingly interminable quiet passed between them.

"You still pay your respects, don't you?" She could guess from his periodic absences in the mornings. It wasn't a daily thing, but it was frequent enough to notice.

"Yes."

"May I join you next time?" Kūkaku had been thinking about why Rukia had wanted to visit Masaki's grave on _ohigan_ , and it seemed evident it had been to ask permission. She hadn't needed it, and neither did Kūkaku—nobody did from the truly dead—and yet... it seemed right to ask anyway.

Byakuya opened his eyes fractionally and glanced down at her crown before closing them again. "If that is your wish."

They sat together as the moon tracked up into the sky for sometime longer until he said, "The hour is growing late, and it will only become colder. We should retire."

She settled for nodding in response.

* * *

As Kūkaku dried her hair, she kept Byakuya in sight. The bath had been wonderfully soothing to mind and body alike, and she found herself newly invigorated, but her thoughts kept turning to him. He'd been quiet and a bit distant since the tea house, and although they'd cleaned up together, they'd largely kept to themselves.

She had eschewed wearing a _hadajuban_ and stood there with simply her _yukata_ on, draped about her shoulders, open to bare everything. She had nothing to hide from him, she liked him looking at her even if she'd never admit it, and she intended to shrug it off before slipping into bed with him anyway, yet he paid her not a jot of attention. It was confusing, and her emotions were a jumble after everything that'd happened that day—she couldn't help but frown.

Byakuya waited for her, wearing his _yukata_ and the rest perfectly properly out of rote propriety and decorum, until she walked by him. He followed alongside her to bed.

Kūkaku cast off the _yukata_ and slipped under the sheets without a second thought, getting settled on her side of the bed while Byakuya disrobed. Once she'd demonstrated her preference for sleeping nude, he'd never questioned it, and had silently adopted the practice himself.

Once he'd done so and settled into bed beside her, she waited—when he made no move to embrace her, she decided to finally do something about it. She turned over to face him and drew nearer, her face across from his on the same pillow. She studied him intently, but his eyes were closed and he seemed rather placid. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Don't give me that," she insisted.

Byakuya opened his eyes and met her gaze, seeing the frustration written all over her face. His lips twitched a bit but he kept his face controlled. "This is not really the time." There was a way to do these things properly...

"According to whom?" Kūkaku challenged.

His eyes lingered on hers, taking in the certitude of their set. She really was adamant about this...

He soon found one of her hands, her left, and took it in his.

Kūkaku glanced down at the contact, before locking eyes again, a perplexed expression on her face.

"There is something I must tell you," Byakuya said, once more closing his eyes.

She blinked. Something in his words made her mentally review the day in an instant. He had been working up to something—something that'd been derailed at the tea house, and... _Oh, shit..._

"I—" Byakuya began.

"Stop!" she commanded.

Byakuya opened his eyes with what was clearly both surprise and agitation.

Kūkaku's focus darted all over his face. Yes, he had definitely been about to say _that_... She scowled and tried to turn back around.

He kept ahold of her hand and didn't allow her to. _The nerve of this woman... She drives me crazy..._

"Let go," she demanded.

"Allow me to finish," he countered.

This time she drew her other hand up—her right, the one she'd had restored so she could once more truly protect what mattered—in order to protect herself. In order to protect her heart. She clasped it over his mouth. "I don't want to hear that kind of thing!"

Byakuya grasped her right wrist, and when she struggled, he drew her to him.

Kūkaku fought him for a time, but finally ceased and just smacked her right hand against one of his pectorals before getting her forehead to his chin. "Don't tell me that," she harshly whispered.

He let out an exasperated breath, studying the space above her head.

Long seconds passed before she ran her fingertips over his chest and added, much more softly, "Show me."

Byakuya blinked.

Kūkaku leaned in and ducked her head, kissing her way down along the bottom of his chin and up under his jaw toward his throat, while she slowly ran her hands over him.

He kept hold of her upper arms for a second, then slid his hands up to her shoulders and down along her back, roving them over her with growing surety. At last, he traced one up into her soft hair, and the other down onto her exquisite curves.

Kūkaku arched her back, pressing her rear into his hand while her chest brushed against his abs and ribs. She pushed closer to him, tangling their legs together, wanting to feel him.

Byakuya moved with her and embraced her for a short while, then rolled with her so she was on her back, her head against the pillow, kissing her.

She flexed up against him and held the kiss for a time, then deliberately broke it, cupping his cheeks.

His eyes met hers.

"Show me how you feel," Kūkaku said, somewhere between an entreaty and an instruction, watching him intently.

Byakuya closed his eyes and kissed her again, turning his head to make it deep as he ran a hand through her hair and started to steadily fondle her with adoration.

* * *

He was slow and tender with her, from the way he moved to the way his hands grasped and gripped her.

She was on her back at first, rolling her hips in time with him; then she was on her side, one leg between his, the other up over his shoulder; on her hands and knees, his fingers squeezing her flanks and helping her buck backwards; and then finally she was atop him, her fingers dug into his shoulders as he helped her up and down, back and forth.

It was different than all the times before. It hadn't just been lust that had driven them previously, but that had been having sex or fucking one another—this time they spoke to each other in moans and panted breaths, pledged and revealed their feelings in little touches and movements. They made love, gradually building to their breaking point together.

When they came apart, Kūkaku slumped down against Byakuya, finding herself in a deep embrace before she'd even finished calling out her pleasure. She couldn't think of anything at that point but to bury into him, and didn't object when he turned with her so they were on their sides.

Neither said another word, the two of them simply holding one another as sleep quickly took them.


End file.
